"I don't want to become the kind of Adwait who would rip every single skin cell off any man who dares to have even the faintest touch upon your skin," He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her earlobe.
Nitya's heart raced in response to his words. Sh...
I shut my eyes, letting my mind wander aimlessly. But like every single day, it kept circling back to one person: Nitya. I took a deep breath and snapped my eyes open, running a hand haphazardly across my face.
I grabbed my phone and unlocked it, scrolling through my gallery to find her pictures. Lately, they've been my refuge. The one thing that keeps me centered.
Every night, I'd stare at her pictures, letting myself unwind. And come morning, the first thing I'd do was look at her photo again, like it was my morning coffee—can't start the day without it. She's just become a part of me now, like she's in my veins, woven into my whole being.
My phone started ringing, and instantly, my heart started racing, hoping it might be her on the line. My hopes took a hit—it wasn't her name lighting up the screen.
But a smile crept onto my face as I saw it was a video call from 'little one.'
The adorable face of Aradhya greeted me on the screen. Her chubby little hand waved enthusiastically, clutching a bottle of milk in her tiny grip.
"How is my precious little one?"
In reaction, she let out a thrilled squeal, her arms flung wide open as if she was pulling me into a hug through the screen. But then she lost her balance, and her little hand landed on the floor.
"Be careful, little one," I warned gently. My eyes drifted to her wrist, where she wore a silver bracelet I'd brought back from London.
My mind couldn't help but wander to Nitya too. She still had the bracelet I gave her, but I craved more than just a physical reminder. I wished for her to talk to me, even if it was just friendly chit-chat.
"B-ab-iee!" Aradhya exclaimed.
It warmed my heart to see that she had learned to call me the same endearing name that I often used for her—'baby.'
"Yes, baby. What is it?" I inquired.
Her little face twisted into a sad expression, and she gestured towards her own face before pointing at mine, asking silently why I seemed upset.
At just two years old, her instincts were sharper than most adults', I have to admit. I poured my heart out to her, telling her everything that had happened lately. She listened intently, sipping milk from her bottle, looking as absorbed as if she were watching a thrilling movie with popcorn at the cinema.
"I love her immensely, my little one. So much that it becomes difficult for me to stay apart from her," I confessed with a sigh.
In response, she clapped her hands with an adorable, excited squeal, revealing her gummy teeth.
